Testing One, Two, Three
by Medie
Summary: Danny is testing out the new team leader...(Alternate Universe)


Title: Testing, One, Two, Three...  
  
Rating: PG13  
  
Fandom: Without a Trace  
  
Keywords: Alternate Universe  
  
Spoilers: Post ep for episode 2X18, Legacy  
  
Notes: I was half tempted to issue a 'What if Jack Does Leave' Challenge for Without a Trace. Haven't done it yet. But I have been mulling over an AU of my own in which he does. This was a snippet of me trying to get a handle on a new supervisor and her interactions with the team. Danny was my first attempt as I suspect he would be one of the most difficult for me. (Him and Martin. I'm half afraid I'd turn Martin into Vin Tanner G) According to azarsuerte Danny sounds...Dannyish. ;-p  
  
"Testing, One, Two, Three..."  
by M  
  
---------  
  
"Hey, Chlo', you got a minute?" Sticking his head into Chloe's office, Danny held onto the doorframe with one hand, leaning over in such a way that made the supervisor suspect he had to be Spiderman in his spare time. Nobody could hold a posture like that without doing a header into the floor.  
  
Nevertheless, he seemed genuinely curious about something and she wasn't about to knock his posture the first time he approached her looking to talk. "Yeah sure," Removing her glasses, she leaned back in her chair and gestured to the seat. "What's up?"  
  
"You've been going over a few of our cases from last year right?" Moving into the room, he dropped down into the chair, surprisingly personable. She'd expected him to maintain the same hostile attitude he'd shared with Agent Spade about her assignment to the unit just a little longer than this. But then, she also had her suspicions about the reason for Agent Spade's animosity and those suspicions had very little to do with the fact she'd gotten the job over Vivian.  
  
"A few." She nodded in affirmation. "Trying to get halfway familiar with the place..."  
  
"You go over the Stanley case yet?" Danny shifted his position in the chair, seemingly seeking a more comfortable choice. "George Stanley? Disappeared after leaving his wife's salon?"  
  
"Mmhmm..." Chloe leaned forward, leafing through the files that sat on her desk. "Just this morning actually...something to do with a drug dealer's death, right?"  
  
"Yeah. That's the one." He nodded.  
  
"That was a while ago. What's got that one in your head now?"  
  
"Just got to thinking what you might think about it. With the whole profiler thing and all." Danny shrugged. "Bugged me at the time...the way the family..."  
  
"Didn't talk about it?" Chloe reached for her glasses again, slipping them on and opening the file. "Well, I'm just speculating, the file's a little sketchy for anything resembling a working profile but, you're wondering why, right?"  
  
"Pretty much, yeah." He nodded. "They never pressed charges, never spoke about it, the parents didn't have a clue the kid knew and he never let on."  
  
"Don't rock the boat." She mused softly, skimming one of the reports.  
  
"Pardon?" Not quite catching what she'd said, Danny moved forward on the seat, leaning in.  
  
"Don't rock the boat." Chloe repeated, a little louder. "It's no wonder everything exploded like it did. That family was a pressure cooker waiting to happen." She tapped the picture of the wife, Martha, with one finger. "Frankly, I'm not surprised she didn't want to press charges. But then, I don't think you were either. The trauma and the fact that her son didn't know..."  
  
"She wanted to protect her family and she just wanted to forget." He nodded. "No surprise there."  
  
"As for the husband...Now that's another story entirely." Leafing through the file's contents, she found a statement from him, one she'd spent some time reading over that morning. "In a way, it was about protecting his family but in another way, it was about himself too."  
  
"How's that?" Danny prompted, watching her with growing fascination. It was cliche but he could practically see the wheels turning in her head. She probably hadn't even noticed that her posture had changed, grown more detached, clinical. A vast difference from the personable woman who'd walked into the offices a few weeks prior. Chloe Alexander, it seemed, was a study in contrasts. He couldn't get a handle on her but that, he suspected, was exactly the way she wanted it. She seemed to enjoy keeping people guessing. Vivian had eluded to times that she'd worked with the former profiler and that Chloe seemed to compartmentalize her life, be different things to different people and that those that worked with her only got to see the side of her that was Agent Alexander.  
  
At the time, he'd been skeptical of the assessment. In theory, he supposed it was possible, but seeing in action was another story entirely. It was damn hard to imagine someone separating the various facets of their life with such precision without them becoming completely dissociative. But then, he'd also never worked with anyone who'd spent twenty years working with some of the worst cases the FBI had to offer. It was either disassociate or...well, he didn't much want to think about the 'or'. But, it was still damned intriguing.  
  
"Well, think about how boys are raised in most societies. It's all about being 'the man' and protecting your family and being the breadwinner and the focal point. Men are expected to be a modern day Atlas, with the weight of the world on their shoulders. The buck stops with them as it were." Picking up a pen, Chloe fiddled with it as she continued to speak. "And as much as feminists like to believe that the scales are a little more balanced than they were, psychologically speaking, not so much. This man's wife was violently brutalized right in front of him and there wasn't a damn thing he could to do to stop it or to help her. The one time in their marriage that she well and truly needed him, in his mind, he failed her. That's not something you get over easily. Frankly, I'd've been surprised if they had pursued criminal action. Put yourself in his shoes, say you and your girlfriend are asleep some night..."  
  
"Single." Danny interjected with an irreverent grin.  
  
She rolled her eyes at him. "Humor me."  
  
"Okay, humoring you." He nodded. "Do continue."  
  
"Smartass." She groused with a faint chuckle. "Okay, say you and your girlfriend are asleep some night and you wake up to find a gun in your face and some guy standing over you. He and his buddies are tossing the place. They tie you both up and put you in the living room. Then, one of those guys decides your girlfriend's real pretty and right there, right in front of you, maybe so close you could touch her if your hands were free, he rapes her. Maybe he rapes her a couple of times. Maybe his buddies join in, maybe they just stand around and watch...either way..." She met his gaze, held it, and he felt frozen, caught up in the scenario she was sketching out. "Now, you tell me this. Afterwards...what's your first reaction? Your immediate instinct? Call the cops? Get them to chase these guys down?"  
  
He swallowed hard, forcing down the unexpected wave of anger. "No...I'd want to get my hands on the bastard..."  
  
"Exactly. She was depending on you, in your mind, her safety rested with you. That safety was ripped away, and, more's to the point, you were right there. Watching. Completely unable to help. You don't want the cops anywhere near this. You want to find the son of a bitch yourself and make sure he never hurts another woman again. The police are going to be the last thing on your mind." Chloe paused then added, "Of course, there's the other side of the coin too. As much as we wish they weren't, often times, trying a rapist can be tantamount to the victim suffering the assault all over again. Especially if said victim has to testify for whatever reason. For as much as he wanted vengeance, he may have wanted to protect her. He couldn't protect her that night but..."  
  
"But he could protect her from suffering through the investigation, the trial...the media coverage." Danny sighed, nodding. "Yeah."  
  
Chloe grinned, looking over the rims of her glasses at him. "So, did I pass?"  
  
Getting up, Danny paused, mulling over a response before his grin returned, full force. "I'll let you know." Before leaving the office, he paused and held her gaze. "Thanks."  
  
She inclined her head, looking at him over the rims of her glasses. "Anytime...I mean that, got it?"  
  
"Got it." He agreed then closed the door behind him. Stopping, he looked over his shoulder, through the blinds and watched the redhead turn her attention to her work once more. "Definitely..."  
  
Finis 


End file.
